


mouth of the devil

by hyrulecastle



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 12:25:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15412866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyrulecastle/pseuds/hyrulecastle
Summary: Brady and Owain sleep in one bed.





	mouth of the devil

**Author's Note:**

> couldn't bother work on this any longer for it to actually make any sense for many reasons but mostly bc i was tipsy for 95% of this thing's creation  
> if you like it though...thank u...

It would be incorrect to say that Brady was unused to dangerous situations. As a healer, though a bit unused to the thrill of actual brawling he had to be just as present to ensure his companions didn’t suddenly keel over and die, so it was fair to say in the face of danger Brady could keep it together.

However no amount of potential sudden death encounters could prepare him for his current predicament. 

Owain was currently sleeping soundly only inches from where he and Brady lay together on a small cot, which was normal in itself—they’d shared a bed many times. There wasn’t much choice of sleeping arrangements during a war, and Brady was grateful for any chance to sleep on something horizontal when he could. And he liked the extra warmth too. And he liked Owain.

And usually keeping his feelings reigned in for his eccentric companion wasn’t too grueling a task. It was easy to maintain their close camaraderie when everything out of Owain’s mouth was so easy to make fun of, and coming up with insults was a good distraction from the hard curves of Owain’s body, or the red plush of his mouth.

The difference this time was that somehow through the night Owain had managed to shed all of his clothes down to his underwear at least, which wouldn’t have been a challenge for Brady’s better senses—the swordsman felt little shame over nudity and Brady was not unfamiliar with this—if not for the large bulge in his shorts as well.

Brady feels ashamed of himself. He’s been awake for about an hour now, rotating between ogling Owain’s crotch and his sleeping form and trying not to get a boner himself. Many a time has he seen this particular sword unsheathed during baths, but the vulnerability of the current moment left Brady feeling a bit hot, and the beginnings of a tiny knot of guilt begin to form in his stomach.

He wonders what Owain is dreaming about. Definitely a face prettier than his own rough mug, and it is this thought that is suddenly interrupted by a low chuckle.

“Ho, there! Like what you see?” Owain says suddenly, eyeing him from where they face each other underneath the thin, starched sheet.

Brady jolts from his fantasies and regrettably their eyes meet. Owain looks soft and sweet in the face having just woken up, and Brady flusters for an excuse.

“Owain, uh, I wasn’t staring or nothin’ just...” he starts, but the teasing look on Owain’s face knocks the wind out of him. 

“I’m going back to sleep now,” he finishes lamely. He can’t help fumbling with all the blood rushing to his face rather than staying to aid his brain with a response, and he moves to turn in the other direction away from where Owain is facing. But before he can shift fully there is a quick hand reaching for his shoulder, that dislodges itself when Brady flinches away from its touch.

“Wait!” Owain says, looking a bit flustered himself. Brady wonders if the look of insecurity is only his imagination, because it is quickly replaced by the usual sweeping bravado. ”It seems that my youthful blood has broken free of its restraints during my slumber. If I could be so bold as to enlist the help of a fair priest to help me subdue this power...” Owain finishes with a wink, and looks expectantly at Brady. 

Having been around for so long Brady figures he’s gotten better at deciphering Owain’s flowery choice of words, but the inclinations behind the statement makes Brady doubt his intentions. To him it’s likely the whole situation is just a roundabout way for Owain to save face from the fact that he got a boner in his sleep. The confusion must be clear on Brady’s face, for Owain continues.

“I mean, if you felt so inclined... Would you lend a literal hand in relieving my current predicament?” 

“That’s what I thought ya said,” Brady mutters, wanting to roll his eyes at Owain’s little joke but still feeling his face redden anew. “Ya want me to, uh...?” And Brady makes a gesture with his hand that he believes gets the point across.

Owain nods, looking at him with fierce purpose.

On good days, Owain is hard to understand. Right now, Brady can’t even begin to figure what could be going through the swordsman’s head, and his lack of a reply signifies as such. Maybe if he were less of a coward in the face of romance would he say yes and not think twice about how he’d feel later, tangled up in whether Owain was just going with the flow and void of any pink feelings. He thinks that he should lay off the romance novels he’d gotten from Cordelia as birthday gifts and give it a go, but he responds with his heart.

“Uh, I don’t think I... my bein’ a priest an’ all I don’t know if it’s right fer me to...” He ends up providing the weakest excuse if he’s ever heard one. It wasn’t religious guilt that Brady felt on quiet nights spent with his palm and a “misplaced” clothing item belonging to his myrmidon friend, but Owain takes the refusal in stride. 

“No issue, my dear friend!” Owain says, looking genuinely unoffended. Brady breathes out shakily, hoping the following course of action would be for Owain to shuffle out to the nearest private room and relieve himself there while Brady bashes his head against a wall.

But Owain seems to have other intentions, for while Brady is reeling from the past few seconds, Owain has closed the tiny space between them, almost leaning over where Brady lies, and slips his underwear a little bit down his thighs, freeing the tip of his hardness from its cloth constraints.

“I know you’re already quite troubled,” Owain starts, rushing to get a word in and suddenly a bit more serious than usual, “but if I could request this from you...” Brady looks up at him with the utmost horror, the object of his affections leaning a little on top of him and asking for his permission to stay this close.

They somehow end up facing each other lying down. For reasons Brady does not understand Owain has clarified that he wants to be watched while he jacks himself off, and in Brady’s inability to respond came a compromise: Brady would do so with some distance between them, rather than with Owain straddling him as he had initially proposed. He thinks his heart would have given out.

Like most things Owain does he puts his all into it, grabbing the shaft and not even bothering to ease himself into anything at all before he starts thrusting into the circle of his hand. Brady has a hard time of it tearing his eyes away, and when Owain lets out the tiniest of whimpers, he starts to think about the afterlife.

“Ya were bein’ totally serious…” Brady thinks aloud despite himself, “ya actually want me here watchin’?”

“Who am I to deny my sword hand reprieve when it trembles?” Owain responds as if that serves as a response to anything. “And I didn’t want to waste an opportunity…”

Brady is too distracted to really think about what that could mean. Owain may be the largest supporter of skinship in the army and all, but this was a lot, and all of Brady’s flight functions had been overridden the moment Owain hadn’t been disgusted when he caught him in the act of eyeballing his dick.

“Just…” Owain starts and Brady feels himself jump out of his skin by how _breathy_ he sounds, with a hand moving furiously between his legs (Brady notes to himself that even enveloped in his large hands he can still see the head) and body faintly trembling, and Brady knows that he is getting hard and wishes Owain would stop looking at him so desperately.

Owain does indeed stop looking at him after a few moments but the change is worse—his face has melted into something even more lewd and his mouth is hanging open. They’re still too close. Brady can feel warm breath fanning his face, and true to form Owain is a loud man. In the quiet of the morning his gasping sends electricity down Brady’s spine.

It feels like ages when really only seconds have passed as the two of them lie facing each other, Owain occasionally opening his eyes to make sure Brady is still watching him get off, and Brady wants to distract himself from the display but he can’t. It’s futile at this point to hide his erection now, the thin linen he wears to sleep not allowing for modesty, and he wonders if he can get away after all of this is over and palm himself to death in shameful solitude.

Owain once again seems to have other plans in mind, and he moves in closer to Brady so that their chests are dangerously close to being pressed together. Brady stills when with a free hand, Owain reaches for his cock straining against his shorts. 

“It’s not a problem if I do it, is it?” Owain asks, and Brady genuinely does not remember what he could be referring to. But every nerve in his body finally snaps, and he says out loud, “Agghhh, fuck it!” before giving in to the touch of Owain’s hand against him. He moves in closer, allowing Owain to hold both of their lengths together in his hands, continuing his earlier ministrations with renewed energy. 

Brady feels himself get close to the edge, and in a moment of bravery he leans upwards and slots their mouths together briefly before retracting his burning face.

 _Ya couldn’t help it, huh_ , he berates himself, and maybe tears are welling up in his eyes but that could just be the way Owain thumbs over the slit, provoking Brady into spilling into his palm with a shout.

Owain surprises him by kissing him through it, licking into his mouth with a feverish tongue. The sensation is very different from the chaste press of lips Brady had indulged himself with before. They separate for a moment, Owain muffling his pants into the crook of Brady’s sweaty shoulder as he climaxes, and he topples over onto Brady despite the priest’s protests about the stickiness.

There’s a few beats of silence, the only sound coming from synchronized harsh breathing and the sound of Brady’s heart.

“Ya big oaf, get offa me,” Brady finally says, exhausted, and finds himself a bit tearful. It’s a cause for panic, Owain will ask why he’s crying and figure out everything Brady has kept locked away and then he’ll finally realize what they just did together, but Owain is quiet for once. 

He simply leans over and gently kisses the tears from Brady’s eyes. Then he’s mussing up his own hair wildly.

“Gods, dammit Brady! You’re just too cute, this is not what I intended at all!” Owain suddenly yells, holding his head in his hands.

“See, ya regret it!” Brady quips, feeling just as manic. It’s really the only part he has a response for, and he’s not even sure it’s exactly right.

“No, no no,” Owain says, looking shocked. “I rushed you and swept you along with my pace, without even telling you how I feel yet. I had a poem ready and all.”

Brady scrunches up his face as he is wont to do when thinking. “Ya mean to say… ya don’t just mess around with every lad that shares yer bed fer the night?”

Owain scoffs. “Of course not, only the truly worthy may drink from my crystal fountain! And that means you. For me, I mean.”

“Yer such an… ugh. Owain,” Brady starts, and the way Owain seems to hold onto his pause softens up Brady a little, more soft than he thought he already could be. 

“I don’t know about drinking from no fountains and that,” Brady says, giving Owain a light shove, “but I do know that I like ya and… yeah. If you asked me to drink again, I’d say yes.” The metaphor is leaving him a bit confused, but he figures he’s gotten it right with the way Owain suddenly beams at him, and clings to him again against the tiny bed.

Brady smiles back, and feels tears pulling at his eyes again, but this time for a completely different reason.


End file.
